This is a compilation of stories, days upon days of meeting strangers in the oddest of places, making friends with trees, barren roads, desert heat, and stuffed reindeer. About seeing the continent via a bicycle. And about falling in love, testing human limits, and restoring a faith in humanity.
Pages
- UTAH - Tent, Reindeer, Bicycle 2014
- Heading to Alaska on a Bicycle
- THE JOHN MUIR TRAIL: A Tale of a Reindeer and German Lover 2013
- JMT South to North: SOLO in the SIERRAS 2015
- Oregon: Willamette National Forest, Boy, and Mount...
- ONE COUNTRY VIA A BICYCLE 2012
- MAINE: Cycle Touring the Northern State of Blueberries 2015
Intro
Welcome to a story, or stories I should say. A compilation of adventure tales. An ongoing itch to see, smell, and touch the world, or at least the deserted roads and rarely trampled mountains of America. Characters within the descriptive paragraphs of these stories carve out the coming and going companions in life; vital life people and pieces that parallel a universe for moments, days, years. And then spear off, leaving granules of magnificent memories of magical places. They leave a lasting trace, a gained sense of courage to stand tall on oxygen deprived mountains and shout absurdities like: I love you Ralph! Ralph is a teenage reindeer stuffed of the finest synthetic polyester fiber poof; he says made in Indonesia but really tells me he is from the North Pole. Delivered through a chimney one December night 20 years ago, we instantly became cuddle buddies upon that morning's sunrise. He is the instigator. The inspiration. And the imagination. He breathes creativity. Laughter. His is a dear companion. And yes, at 4lbs he tags along atop a pack or strapped to a rack. In delirium of 107 degree heat, the small possession of material belongings gain a persona. Innate objects become friends of the road and trails. And as for the humans who accompany, their presence reads priceless. Without O'Reilly, a 29 year old New Hampshirian with superior taste buds, the mathematical six foot four inch tall German, or handful of organic peanut butter and 99 cent jam eating munchkins, there would be a lot less excitement. The encounters we make with our specie, encapsulating the world with their awkward ways and over consumerist love, somehow we have managed to become overly adored creatures. Their generous hearts restore a faith that goodness prevails in the upheaval of a sometimes lost humanity. As for myself, I'm just the navigator, paddling up the stream of life munching on Clif Bars, with an iPhone documenting the frailties and goodies underneath all the simplified complexities in the world we reside. So again, I welcome you to get lost and dream a little through this typed text and your imagination. My name is Kristen Gentilucci. I live in Berkeley California and I love dogs.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Day 40. Hello republic of Texas.
Weather: 106 headwind and too many trucks
Life: wake to see the sun rising over our backs, strike us down with its rays and shadowless at noon, and then set with an array of pinks, purples, and oranges. In the mornings the plants radiate soft pastel colors, in the afternoons, without squinting the gnarly scattered water deprived trees would be lost in the bright sun. An the evenings, thank god there is AC.
Today was a morning of quality of life stops. The colors of the sun rising over the horizon made the shutter of my iPhone irresistible. A truck stricken wild turkey was found, paralyzed, and needed some TLC in my arms before it passed. A 2 hour detour happened when we discovered a TV in a passing town showing the cycling Olympics.
Hitting the state border was a whole new cup of tea. Horses that wanted to play, and ice cream men who wanted to chat us up about blue laws. The gun laws here, there aren't many. You shoot who trespasses to mess with your cow or horse. You still hang law breakers who attempt to steal your horse. And fines are given for spitting in the streets.
25 trucks rolled by before a single car on an eight mile stretch. We've been dry hopping from dry town to dry town, not a drop of beer in sight. Bootlegging is what's its called when you bring more than 2 cases of beer here. 3 towns and days later I am still on the lookout for a blue post box and a desperately needed bike shop which is far from sight.
1,000 people popular Wheeler Texas and that grandeous population requires a whopping 7 church. However tonight we are staying in a barn with a broken septics system. Hose showers, backyard bathrooms, ehh this town has an ice cream store and a live rodeo tonight at 7pm. After 80 miles life is complete with just that.
Fried rice is being cooked and we are all off to the rodeo in overalls and spandex. We fit right in!